


Night lingers at the darkest hour

by Myulalie



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - James Bond Fusion, Aquaphobia, Attempted Kidnapping, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Bombs, Enemies to Lovers, Flirting, Gambling, Guns, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 13:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30056457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myulalie/pseuds/Myulalie
Summary: Emotions are nothing but a distraction, Alec should have learned his lesson by now. Except this time, the distraction has a name: Magnus Bane, and Alec failed his mission. He’ll do everything to fix it, and it’s just his luck that Magnus Bane is exactly the ally he needs to succeed.A Malec James Bond Fusion, because Magnus is the perfect James Bond Girl.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 20
Kudos: 66
Collections: SHBingo 20-21





	Night lingers at the darkest hour

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lalelilolu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalelilolu/gifts).



> Thanks to **Sarah** and **Lyss** for helping with the plot (no, locking the characters in a cell and waiting to figure out how they get out doesn’t work for me), and happy birthday to **Lale** who also beta’d this fic because I’m a terrible friend ;)
> 
> **Bingo square:** free space.
> 
> You can tweet me at **#myulalie**!

Alec strolls into the hall without a sound. Red carpet muffles each of his steps and the sleek, black tuxedo flows along his limbs, the dark blue cummerbund wrapped tight around his waist. The outfit is beautiful, although not the most practical — plus, it makes his already rose like skin look very pale — and Alec is careful not to raise his arms as he steps up to a roulette table. He needs the fabric of his blazer to hide his sides, and the warm metal barrel nested against his ribs.

He gives a crooked smile to the dark haired woman next to him when she moves aside to let Alec join the game. Long dreadlocks weaved with golden ornaments rest on her shoulder, her skin a shade of brown umber like the strongest metal. She smiles back, the curve of her lips graceful. She wears a white satin suit, a bold choice in a sea of deep burgundy cocktail dresses and ebony silk tuxedos.

The croupier clears their throat, “Sir?”

Alec nods in return and places his first bet, “Single number, seventeen.”

His bet doesn’t come in and the croupier, their dark hair gathered in a neat bun on top of their head, yields their rake expertly to push chips across the roulette layout. The woman next to Alec collects her chips and offers her hand. Alec shakes it gingerly and she grins, revealing a row of pearly white teeth.

“Catarina,” she introduces herself.

Alec doesn’t get the opportunity to reply when the gilded doors of the hall open to reveal a slender man with silver hair, holding a gray cat in his arms. Alec has to do a double-take, he can’t get this wrong, but this is indeed James Carstairs, in flesh and bones. A silver tag hands from the cat’s elegant leather collar, but Alec can’t read the name from the other side of the room. He’s shaken out of his thoughts by the croupier.

They clear their throat, awaiting Alec’s bet once more, “Seventeen.”

It fails again, and Alec shrugs, glancing around. James Carstairs, also known as Jem, has stopped by the bar and set his cat down on a stool, so Alec decides to lay one last bet on seventeen. He doesn’t hold much hope for the third spin and Catarina chuckles, betting on odd numbers. Shimmery eye-shadow stretches away from her eyelids like shooting stars, dark blue and silver that sharpen her gaze even when she smiles.

The wager comes in. The roulette table falls silent with Alec’s sudden stroke of luck, and Catarina rolls her eyes, gesturing at the croupier to get a move on. They push their rake across the green layout, but Alec dismisses his chips to let the bet ride.

Seventeen comes in for a second, consecutive time.

James Carstairs knocks his drink back, and Alec leaves his money on the table again, trying his luck. He knows he’s fighting against the odds, but he has nothing to lose, and some time to waste. The night is young, and to him this game is little more than golden numbers on the green layout.

The third, consecutive spin comes in, seventeen once more, and Alec blinks slowly at his run of luck. Well, that’s unexpected. He glances at Catarina and gives a high pitched laugh. At the bar, James Carstairs stands up, picking his cat up, and moves to the craps table.

“Cut and run,” Catarina advises, brushing him off.

Alec nods and leaves the roulette table in utter silence. It’s time.

He steps up in front of James Carstairs just in time for the craps game to start. The cat is curled up on the edge of the table, and Alec spots his name tag dangling from the leather collar: Church. The dealer, a tall man with curling locks of blond hair, very obviously pretends he doesn’t notice the feline, so Alec dismisses the animal to look around instead.

Alec nods at the men and women crowding the table, and his eyes linger on one of the spectators. The man is beautiful. He leaves his copper skin on display with a barely buttoned crimson shirt, tucked neatly into form fitting pants. Alec notices blue streaks in the man’s spiked up hair, and a crown-shaped ear cuff that glints in the bright light of the hall. A waterfall of golden chains around the stranger’s neck brings out the elaborate makeup on his face, charcoal rimmed eyes that set Alec’s insides alight with one look.

The beautiful stranger notices Alec staring and beams, walking around the table to come up to Alec’s side. The scent of sandalwood surrounds Alec and he relaxes in the warmth of the stranger, who leans in and lays a hand on Alec’s arm.

“Hi there,” the beautiful man purrs.

“H-hey,” Alec stutters.

He’s glad there is no one to see him and his burning cheeks, because he’s so flustered it’s embarrassing. He can almost hear his mother, scolding him for being distracted, Isabelle’s snickers about mixing business with pleasure, and Jace’s cheeky come-backs to rile him up. Alec’s siblings wouldn’t think twice about it, because they never mean it when they flirt, but Alec is not like them. James Carstairs is just there, placing a bet on even numbers, and Alec is staring into the doe-eyes of this stranger instead.

“I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced, I’m Magnus Bane,” said stranger adds.

“Lightwood, Alec Lightwood,” Alec scrambles to reply.

Magnus’ lips tug into a slow smile, and he presses himself to Alec’s side when the dealer turns to them. Alec sets his bet without hesitation, tearing his eyes away from Magnus to watch James Carstairs instead. The gray haired man has hooded eyes, his skin is like driftwood, and he rolls the two dice with a sure hand. He wears a sharp suit made of anthracite silk. Alec doesn’t think Carstairs has a gun. 

“Your turn,” Magnus whispers against Alec’s ear.

Alec takes the two dice and shivers when Magnus’ hand slides down his arm, brushing over the veins on his wrist. Magnus wraps his fingers around Alec’s hand, the touch delicate yet strong. Alec is not sure he could break away if he wanted to, but what scares him more is that he doesn’t want to move anyway. Magnus brings their hands to his lips to wish Alec luck, and breathes out, warmth that Alec can still feel even when Magnus lets go, like the stain of rosewood lipstick lingering on the back of Alec’s hand.

It’s eerily quiet when Alec rolls the dice, before James coos at Church, “Pick who dies.”

Alec ducks under the table. He drags Magnus with him, one arm wrapped around the beautiful man’s waist. The gunshot echoes behind them — Magnus was the target, Alec realizes —, and people start screaming. The table is covered in splatters of blood, and Alec pats Magnus down to make sure he’s not hurt while the patrons run towards the exits. 

The staff herds them out hurriedly, and a second gunshot goes off above Alec. Chaos ensues as people resume screaming and rush outside of the hall.

Magnus snakes a hand around Alec’s chest, and Alec is too stunned to push him away, his eyes widening as Magnus’ fingers slide under the side of his blazer. The beautiful man flicks Alec’s nipple through his shirt and a shudder runs down Alec’s spine. His hand shoots up to stop Magnus, but it’s too late, Magnus snaps off the flap of the holster and snatches the gun. 

Magnus spins on his heels with the grace of a dancer, aims, and shoots the assassin.

Everything goes quiet again and Alec jumps to his feet, looking around, but it’s too late. The hall is empty except for Magnus and Alec. Whoever got shot managed to flee and James Carstairs has disappeared with the rest of the patrons and staff. The table is at disarray and when he looks around, Alec catches sight of the dice. They’re covered in blood.

Alec’s eyes snap up to Magnus, who spins the gun in his hand with deceptive nonchalance. Alec doesn’t buy it this time, Magnus was very set on seducing him earlier, unprompted. He can almost hear his mother again, Maryse would tell him he should have known better.

He believed it, for a moment, with Magnus’ lips brushing his knuckles like a promise. Alec is never singled out of a crowd, and it’s his greatest strength. His targets don’t see him coming, and there are no witnesses. 

This would not have happened to Izzy or Jace, because they’re the ones to play such tricks on other people, usually. Alec grits his teeth and moves back to put the table between them. The fact that Magnus noticed him is more important than Alec’s hurt feelings. He is unarmed, and Magnus got the assassin with one shot. Alec won’t take any chances.

“Who’s your target?” he asks, ready to bolt.

The gun goes still in Magnus’ hand, pointed at the ground. Magnus rubs his thumb over the flames carved in the handle, the Lightwood family’s signature. Alec tears his gaze away from the distracting movement and scowls at the beautiful man’s lazy smirk. Magnus cocks his hip out and crosses his arms over his chest, tantalizing skin still on display, to tap a finger against his lips.

“Now, are we on first a name basis already? I don’t give the name of my targets to anyone you know,” he drawls.

“I saved your life,” Alec offers, frowning. “You, on the other hand, know exactly who I am, and maybe even why I’m here.”

“I did my research,” Magnus admits. “Nice stroke of luck at the roulette by the way.”

Alec tilts his head to the side. Magnus is not working alone, Alec would have noticed him earlier if he was. Magnus Bane, he muses, raking his memory to find any clue as to who the beautiful man is. There aren’t many people that come to mind… but Magnus Bane comes up often enough in the underground. He should have known better, and his mother will chide him for not making the connection straight away. As for Magnus’ allegiance... Alec only talked to one other person since he entered the hall: Catarina. Magnus Bane and Catarina… Catarina Loss, Alec realizes with a start, and narrows his eyes at the revelation.

“You work with Ragnor Fell too, he must have been here somewhere,” Alec tells Magnus, who shrugs, widening his eyes comically to pout. “The croupier,” Alec adds after a moment of deliberation. “You were both at this table, and Catarina was on the lookout for James Carstairs.”

“The Institute is after James Carstairs. What could we want with him?” Magnus evades.

The beautiful man’s posture gives nothing away. He’s seemingly relaxed, poised like a predator. If Alec is ready to bolt at any moment, so is Magnus. There isn’t much to read in his body language, and Alec doesn’t have anything to rely on in order to find out what, exactly, Magnus is up to.

Alec works for the Institute, but Magnus and his accomplices are not affiliated with any official agency. It’s not impossible that they were hired by one of them, but Alec has no way of knowing. He tries to think of something to say in order to corner Magnus into revealing something, anything Alec can chew on and formulate an hypothesis from, and of course, Magnus chooses that moment to turn tables on him.

“I’d love to take this under actual covers darling, but we’re running out of time.”

Magnus uncurls from his pose and stalks across the hall, never turning his back on Alec. There is an odd sense of pride creeping up Alec’s cheeks and blooming into a fierce blush at the obvious display of caution. He resists the temptation to duck his head when Magnus brings the gun to his lips and blows a kiss.

“I’ll keep this as a souvenir pretty boy, and think of you the next time I shoot,” Magnus gives a mock salute with the gun and winks, before disappearing out the door.

Only then does Alec realize that Magnus wasn’t armed, and therefore, was probably not here to kill anyone. Which means Magnus and his accomplices are after intel. Alec himself was simply meant to kill Jem and dispose of the body. With that in mind, he sneaks out of the hall to return to headquarters. He has a scolding to get through, and a lot of work ahead of him.

  


* * *

  


Alec catches up with Magnus at the riverside. It’s pitch black outside, and nothing refracts off the murky water of the port. The water laps against the docks below, peaceful in the night. Everything is quiet, and Alec follows Magnus at a distance as the beautiful man slinks in and out of the lamp posts’ glow, moving along the containers.

The low rumble of a car follows them, and Alec ducks in the shadows as the sleek black Porsche of the Silent Brothers rolls past him. James Carstairs defected from the Institute long before Alec’s birth, and made a business out of his knowledge of the criminal network: the Silent Brothers only trade information.

People pay the Institute to gather or get rid of evidence, but criminals exchange secrets — a currency worth billions of dollars — to gain the exact information they need to take down entire companies and sometimes, overthrow government officials. Magnus Bane is going after something much bigger than himself, and somehow, Alec believes Magnus might come out on top.

This suspicion is confirmed when Magnus puts up little to no fight as James Cartstairs’ men take him hostage and handcuff him. The beautiful man looks nothing like last time, his hair combed down with big, chunky glasses that someone steps on when they fall from his head. They search Magnus for any hidden item and his mundane clothes are crumpled when they finally push him inside the Porsche. 

Alec rolls his eyes at the ruse and checks his tools — small and narrow, to break out of cuffs and prison cells — are all strapped in place within the sleeves of his bomber jacket before stumbling out of his hiding place. He gets rid of his weapon before they notice him, not wanting to blow either of their covers.

“Magnus! No! Where are you taking him?” he pretends to freak out, tugging at his hair with one hand in mock panic, “he did nothing wrong, please!”

James Carstairs’ men rush toward Alec and try to silence him before he attracts unwanted attention. They throw his phone in the water and Alec lets them tie his hands up to drag him towards the car with a grimace. Magnus’ eyes widen at the sight of him, the beautiful man schools his features almost immediately though, and plays along, turning with a fierce look — meant for Alec — to his kidnappers instead.

“No! Don’t take him! He has nothing to do with this,” Magnus protests surprisingly strongly.

He starts struggling again, but someone shoves Alec inside the car with him. Their shoulders bump into each other and the car door slams shut. The privacy screen goes up, but Alec assumes the driver can still hear them in spite of the screen separating the backseat from the front seats, and doesn’t let his guard down. Neither does Magnus, he notices, and the leather seat squeaks as they settle more comfortably.

“What are you doing here?” Magnus whispers angrily.

“I wanted to know what you were up to behind my back,” Alec replies in the same aggressive tone.

Magnus looks away and doesn’t say anything else. Alec knows he was not supposed to get involved. Tracking down Magnus and his accomplices was no easy feat and it was pretty obvious when they first met that Magnus wanted nothing to do with Alec except to distract him. Alec doesn’t linger on the memory, Magnus’ flirting didn’t mean anything and he can’t afford to be distracted again, Maryse was extremely clear. It hurt, though, and Alec knows his siblings noticed because neither Jace nor Isabelle made fun of him.

The ride is remarkably short, and Alec braces himself when the Silent Brothers open the door. Someone pulls a bag over his head and Alec grunts, letting them drag him out of the Porsche and into some kind of building. He can’t see anything, but the darkness helps to focus on what he can hear: more people behind him, and Magnus’ too quiet footsteps as the rest of the men follow.

It’s a warehouse, Alec reckons from the reverberation of the sound around them, and empty for the most part. Someone pushes him into a cell and frees him from the bag, but leaves him in handcuffs. Alec blinks to adjust to the dim light of the overhead tubes that look straight out of a hospital. The door slamming shut behind him echoes loudly, and Alec rolls his eyes, immediately getting to work to free himself from his cuffs with the small and narrow tool hidden in the sleeve of his bomber.

He imagines Magnus must be doing the same in his own cell, except if the Silent Brothers took him directly to Jem. Somehow, Alec doubts it. If they’re in a warehouse — and they are, from the metal doors and curved steel that stands in for a roof —, James will come to interrogate them. The walls are bare and the floor is overall clean, so Alec assumes this is not where the torture usually takes place. He looks around, hoping for a quick escape, but the door locks from the outside and there is nothing inside but the handcuffs Alec got rid of.

He shrugs, spinning the small and narrow tool he used to get rid of the handcuffs and moves towards the door. He gets to work on the hinges, tapping the pin up enough to get a grip on the top of the pin. Alec pulls it out and crouches to do the same thing at the bottom. He listens for a while to make sure he can deal with whatever is on the other side, and when he can’t hear anything, he takes the door off the hinges. Alec is out within minutes.

The cell opens into a corridor, and there isn’t any guard in sight. Magnus stumbles out of his own cell a moment later, and casually puts a star-shaped earring back on, with his hair ruffled artfully on top of his head. Alec knows he looks like he rolled out of bed from the bag dragging up and down his face, but he doesn’t care much. 

He strides up to Magnus and pushes him out of sight before any guard comes to find them out of their cells. They huddle in Magnus’ cell — it’s just like Alec’s — and Alec listens intently for any threat. So far they’re alone, but who knows for how long. Alec assumes the Silent Brothers brought them here to question them. The only reason they’re still alive is because Magnus seems to have useful information for James.

“What are you playing at?” he mutters, getting in Magnus’ face.

The beautiful man flicks one elegant eyebrow, pressed between the wall and Alec’s chest. Magnus licks his lips — plump and shining with lipgloss —, but doesn’t say anything and Alec tears his eyes away. He can feel lean muscle through Magnus’ cardigan, and Magnus’ warm breath fans over his cheek like the promise of a kiss. Alec can’t afford the distraction though, not this time, and clenches his hands tighter around Magnus’ shoulders in warning. 

“My mission is to abduct the cat,” Magnus eventually relents.

Alec almost laughs at the ambiguous answer. It should be a lie, obviously, but Magnus played him once and he believes everything the beautiful man does and says is calculated. He notices the now familiar scent of sandalwood when he breathes in, and Magnus’ deep brown eyes flicker down when he glances at Alec’s mouth, whose lips are drawn into a tight line as he considers his options.

He gives up on getting any information from Magnus. Alec takes a step back, and the wind is knocked out of him when Magnus takes the opportunity to spin them around. Alec’s back hits the wall with a thud and they tense for fear the sound attracted attention, but no footsteps echo in the corridor. They won’t be alone for much longer, Alec suspects, and he tries to push Magnus back. It’s no use: the beautiful man is all over him, slotting their hips together, and Magnus smirks.

“Is that a gun or are you happy to see me?”

“This is the worst pick-up line you could come up with. I got rid of my gun before I let them take me,” Alec argues.

“That’s not the point darling,” Magnus pets his chest with a forlorn sigh.

“I’m fairly sure you came unharmed too,” Alec points out.

“Haven’t come yet,” Magnus replies with a wink and Alec rolls his eyes. “Can’t look bad on the job, you might have to seduce someone. Abduction is no excuse for sloppiness.”

The wall is cold even through Alec’s bomber and he can feel Magnus’ weight every time he exhales. Their breaths mingle and when Alec peers down, their lips are so close he fears they’ll brush if he speaks again. The length of Magnus’ body pressing against his would be pleasant in any other circumstances. As things are, Alec elbows him, rough and unforgiving as he pushes Magnus back. 

The beautiful man pouts, but eventually moves away and slinks outside the cell, peering at each end of the corridor to make sure the path is clear, “I assume you’re still after Jem, else you wouldn’t have hijacked my mission.” 

Alec doesn’t bother denying it and asks questions about things that really matter, following him, “Any idea to get out of here?” 

“You’re the distraction, I’ll do the rest,” Magnus replies airily.

“No.”

Magnus ignores him and they crawl around the warehouse, avoiding the Silent Brothers controlling the perimeter. There are huge packages wrapped in white plastic all around, practical to hide behind. Alec suspects James Carstairs has taken over a drug cartel recently, and the faint smell emanating from the packages confirms it. 

Magnus doesn’t seem interested in those though.

They freeze when the door of the warehouse slides open to let another car in. It’s another sleek black Porsche, but Jem comes out of this one, carrying his cat. The gray haired man’s weird obsession with the animal makes Alec uncomfortable, and suddenly he wonders if Magnus was really lying about the cat’s abduction.

“What did you say about the distraction again?” he whispers against his better judgment.

Magnus beams at him and leans in to reply, “We need to get him away from the cat.”

Alec can feel the beautiful man’s breath against his ear and shivers, trying to ignore the wave of arousal pulling at his gut. He blinks a few times to regain his focus, and considers their options. They’re unarmed — for now —, but Alec has some room to navigate between the packages stacked all around, and enough cover to get to a guard and disarm them. Once he gets his hand on a gun though, Jem will most likely hide in the car.

If Magnus’ mission is really to abduct Church, Alec can very well get rid of James Carstairs. It will make Magnus’ job easier. Alec nods to himself, coming to a decision, and inches closer to the nearest Silent Brother. The rows of packages are the perfect maze to navigate and stay out of view. Alec creeps up behind the bald man, and knocks him out with a blow to the head. He catches the guard before he falls and lowers him to the ground without a sound.

“Where are the prisoners?” Jem asks his men.

Alec crouches behind a package and aims at his target. He ignores the smell of the drugs drafting up to him through the white plastic, relaxed but in control. Alec breathes out, adjusting his grip on the gun he retrieved from the Silent Brother, and shoots Jem while he can. The gunshot echoes in the warehouse and all the Silent Brothers jump into action, running towards Alec. 

Jem goes down to his knees, his chest covered in blood, and drops the cat. Church pounces away, crimson stains on his gray fur, and disappears under the car when the criminal finally falls to the ground. Alec doesn’t wait around for the next gunshot, he ducks behind a package and runs around the warehouse to meet Magnus on the other side.

He doesn’t check to see if the beautiful man got to the cat, there is no time to lose. Alec shoots the man guarding the door of the warehouse and dives for cover when the Silent Brothers retaliate with a vengeance. The noise is deafening as bullets bounce off the double-folded metal around Alec, and he stumbles when Magnus runs up to him and grabs Alec around the waist, dragging them out of the warehouse.

“Where is the cat?” Alec asks before they break into a run.

“I have everything I need,” Magnus replies evasively, holding something in his clenched fist.

Alec gives up for now. The Silent Brothers don’t give chase immediately, probably checking if there is any way to save Jem first. They’re still on the docks, and they need to get out of the port as fast as possible. Magnus has other ideas however, and his free hand drops from Alec’s waist to intertwine their fingers as he leads the way towards the containers where Alec found him in the first place.

Night lingers on the port and Alec can barely see where Magnus is taking them. There is water to their right, the gentle sound of the murky water lapping against the docks. It’s always darkest before the dawn, he thinks distantly, and Magnus’ hand is warm in his, a strong hold like the first time they met. 

They skid to a stop behind a container and Magnus retrieves a phone underneath. He produces a hard drive with a flourish, revealing what he has been holding onto since they ran out of the warehouse: it’s Church’s collar. Alec bites his lips to conceal his surprise and leans over Magnus’ shoulder as the beautiful man plugs it into the phone to look at the content of the hard drive.

The light of the screen is too bright and Alec squints as he gets used to it, his eyes going wide at the sight of the confidential, top secret document. It’s Jem’s file from the Institute. Alec holds his breath, unsure he should be looking at this, and even less let Magnus see it. He glances around, wary of the Silent Brothers that will come for them sooner or later, but everything is quiet.

“Jem’s partner Will married the woman he loved,” Magnus reads aloud, without inflexion. “He defected from the Institute while they were on their honeymoon. They never came back, no wonder the Institute wanted him dead.”

He fiddles with the phone for a second, seemingly trying to copy the content of the hard drive, when the phone shuts down. The black screen comes back to life with a request for an authorization code to enable the transfer. There is a count down beneath. The red numbers drop quickly, and Alec realizes with horror they have less than thirty seconds to find the code or Magnus’ phone will most likely explode.

Magnus swears and jerks into motion. He elbows Alec painfully as he throws the device away from them, and Alec barely gets a chance to catch his breath when the red hot blast sends them tumbling into the murky waters of the docks. The explosion lights up the port for a brief moment and Alec coughs, trying to find his bearing. He can’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears, and Magnus is nowhere to be seen.

Alec shivers as he finally notices the cold water that embraces him from all sides, when a hand grabs his ankle and drags him down. He flails his arms in the dark, struggling against the murky water to try and surface again. For a moment, Alec fears he won’t make it. Bubbles of oxygen burst around his nose when he exhales, and his chest is burning from remaining underwater for so long. 

He’s tired and was already out of breath when he started drowning.

He kicks his legs again and again to try and swim up, swinging his arms at random when he catches something familiar. It’s like the collar of something, and Alec tightens his fingers around the fabric of Magnus’ cardigan. Maybe he can save one of them at least, and this thought is the only thing that gives him enough strength to finally break out of the water. 

Magnus latches onto him, wrapping his soaking wet arms around Alec’s neck. His head rolls to the side and he coughs a few times to get rid of the water he swallowed earlier. Alec himself struggles to breathe, but he wraps one arm around Magnus’ waist to secure him against Alec’s chest. Magnus starts shaking and Alec tightens his arm around him, trying to swim closer to the docks.

“Not a fan of water,” Magnus wheezes.

The sun breaks over the horizon, bleeding into the water and Alec catches sight of Magnus’ deep brown eyes, blown wide with the iris shrinking to a needlepoint with terror. The beautiful man’s mascara is running, wet tracks like ink on his cheeks. He looks like he’s been crying.

“Aquaphobia is uncommon in this business,” Alec jokes half-hardheartedly.

Magnus’ subdued reply comes after a beat, “Thank you.”

The water rocks them back and forth with every gentle wave coming to lap against the docks. They bathe in dark blue like the night washed away in the ocean, water colors of pastel pink and drowsy orange stretching across the port.

Alec is freezing, but he stops for a moment, glancing down at Magnus in his arms. He knows he probably shouldn’t, but he might as well reap the benefits of this stunt while he can. Magnus made his intentions clear, after all. He doubts they’ll see each other ever again, and if they do, Alec hopes they can be allies again.

“Allies with benefits, I hope,” Magnus whispers, and Alec realizes he thought aloud.

Magnus grins against his lips and steals a kiss. Alec shivers with the brush of their lips, Magnus’ breath burning hot as it ghosts across his mouth like bullets flashing past, leaving only a bloody smear after them. Adrenaline rushes through his veins, and Alec ducks his head to capture Magnus’ lips again.

**Author's Note:**

>  **I take prompts!** Follow me [on tumblr](https://myulalie.tumblr.com/post/637141364802469888/string-of-pearls-and-prompts) and get in touch, my ask box is open ♥
> 
> **On feedback:**  
>  “<3” as extra kudos are fine by me. Short comments give me just as much of an adrenaline rush as longer comments because my email notifications don’t discriminate! I give as long as I get (*coughs* read: I reply at length) so you decide if we’re having a quickie in the comments or if you’re taking me out on a date to have an actual conversation ;)
> 
> _Constructive criticism is welcome_. Please bear in mind that while I will take it into account, I will not rewrite a story that has already been published. I’d rather incorporate relevant feedback (read: concrete examples and suggestions as to how to address the element in question) into a new work and write a different take on the same plot! Once again, I give as good as I get ;)
> 
> _You are not, by any means, required to comment if you don’t want to_. I will publish every chapter of a complete story no matter the response to it. Find some more thoughts and tips on commenting [on my tumblr](https://myulalie.tumblr.com/tagged/commenting), I make moodboards for my fics too, if you want to follow me :D Happy reading ♥


End file.
